Table Fic: A Touch of Colour
by Thel
Summary: Table Fic: The Table witnesses the fallout from 'Shades of Grey' as Jack decides that he needs to talk to Daniel. (complete)


Title:  A Touch Of Colour  
Author: Thel  
Spoilers: Shades of Grey  
Feedback: Sure!  kethe@hotmail.com  
Category: Drama/Angst  
Warnings:  None  
Pairings:  None  
Summary:  The table witnesses the fallout from Shades of Grey. Jack and Daniel finally get to talk.  
Notes:  The Table fic introduced me to the Tok'ra Flats fic, which introduced me to the Tok'ra Flats yahoo group… and the rest is history.  Woo!  I attempted to emulate the Table style of story, so it looks a bit different from my usual stuff.  FYI, the Table is a new character in the SG1 world.  It is a piece of furniture that watches all that transpires in the SGC.  Hope you enjoy!  Thanks to the Tok'ra Flats folks for being so darn inspiring.  :)  I'll put the link to the original table fics in the bio section of my profile.  Click on the link to 'Thel' at the top of this page for that.  FF.net doesn't like web addresses inside stories.  grin   Give them a look and support some really cool authors.  There's a bit of slash, but it's all good.  
Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Ah well.

_I am a table.  I am a rectangular four-foot wide by eight-foot long, golden oak table with lots of grain, a leg on each corner, and a polyurethane sealant. This is important, because though it removes me from the level of 'fine' furniture, it adds to my versatility and longevity._

Today, I am in Tall Civilian Daniel's office.  It has been quiet for the last few days.  Unlike our usual comfortable silences, these have been tense and oppressive.  I may be simply a piece of furniture, but even I could feel it.  This was the kind of silence that caused lesser furniture to grow old, to make paint peel and legs buckle.  I do not care for silences such as these.

The door to Tall Civilian Daniel's lab slides open, and there are footsteps.  Footsteps and a soft litany of curses.  The archaeologist is carrying on a rather heated and vehement conversation with… himself?  His arms are swinging wildly, punctuating some of the strange, foreign words with his forefinger, as if driving the point home.

But there is no one there to hear Tall Civilian Daniel's words.  Nobody's eyes to cross as that emphatic finger punctuates another hissing sentence.

Finally, _finally he talks himself out.  His shoulders slump and he falls back against me, locking his elbows to keep himself upright.  His head droops until his chin touches his chest and he lets out a long sigh.  For a long minute, we stand together.  I do not even think he is breathing.  For the moment, the world has stopped, and Tall Civilian Daniel appears to be contemplating the benefits of staying on board.  I am a simple table.  I cannot help him with this decision.  I can only offer my silent support._

With an abrupt grunt, he straightens up and tilts his head back, blinking at the ceiling lights.  He pushes off with his arms, making me skid back, my legs grating slightly on the cement floor.  Tall Civilian Daniel shakes his head, finishing with a small slap to his own cheek.

His temper apparently expunged, he turns to the bookshelf and pulls out a thick tome.  He pauses for a moment, before leaning back and squinting at the shelf.  Four more texts are piled up and hugged to his chest.  With his free hand, he grabs a notepad and several folders full of papers.  He has to double-time it to me as the papers in the file folders start to slip out.  He makes it, barely, and dumps the books onto my smooth surface so he can free his hand and grab the papers.  Willful things, they nearly escape, but he catches them and stacks them neatly on my wooden top.

He reaches out and snags a chair, rolling it into place and sitting down in one smooth motion.  He reaches across me and picks up some discarded pencils.  Within seconds, he is engrossed in his work.

We are silent once more, but this silence is not so oppressive.  Tall Civilian Daniel is truly working, not just the pretence he has maintained for many long days.  I know this because the pencil is moving swiftly.  Pages are being flipped open.  A book is picked up and then pushed aside for another.  For the last few days, Tall Civilian Daniel has been in this same chair with those same books, but there was no movement, no liveliness.  He spent most of his time lost in thought.  He would begin to work, and then go still, eyes unfocussed.  Eventually, he would push aside the books and leave, only to return and begin the battle anew the next morning.

Now, he is so engrossed in his translations that he does not hear the heavy metal door slide open.  Tall Civilian Daniel is tracing his fingers across the photographs, speaking aloud the ancient words.  He catches himself here and there, stopping to refer first to the book on his lap and then to the book open on my surface.  Finally, he is satisfied, reading out the short passage with a small, triumphant smile.

"Daniel?"

The smile crumples and he turns to face the newcomer.  It is Tall Military Jack.  The Colonel has been absent for days.  I realize from their grim expressions that he must have been the source of Tall Civilian Daniel's discomfort.  That stillness is very much evident in Tall Civilian Daniel once more.

"Jack."

"Daniel.  You know I-"

"No, of course.  I-"

They stop at the same time, aware that they are tumbling over each others' words, neither hearing what the other is saying.

"Sorry."  His innate politeness shines though before he can stop it.  Tall Civilian Daniel sighs, playing with a pencil.

Tall Military Jack shoves his hands into his pocket.  "Actually, no.  I am."  Tall Civilian Daniel's brow furrows in confusion as he peers up at Tall Military Jack.  The Colonel pulls one hand from his pockets and makes a little rolling motion.  "You know."

I know, but I wonder if Tall Civilian Daniel understands what his friend is so clumsily trying to convey.  Finally, after a long pause, Tall Civilian Daniel's eyebrows go up, just as his jaw drops.  He looks away from Tall Military Jack and spins his chair back to face me.  He puts his palms flat on my surface and brushes it lightly.

"Oh."  He says to his books.  He manages a short look at Tall Military Jack before his gaze slides to the floor again, and back to his books.  "No.  No, no.  I, I…  understand.  It's fine."

"Fine."  Tall Military Jack's voice has a peculiar, dry tone to it.  Don't worry, Colonel.  I don't believe him either.

"Yes, Jack."  Tall Civilian Daniel makes an effort and sits up straight.  He is playing with a pencil again.  He looks up at Tall Military Jack, but never quite meets his eyes.  He can't maintain this almost-stare for long, and his gaze drops back to his books.  "You did what you had to do.  It's fine."

"Fine."  Tall Military Jack stares intently at the top of Tall Civilian Daniel's head.  "Stealing from the Tollans… fine?"

The archaeologist is tense.  He does not want to have this conversation now, but like his friend, I feel that it is necessary.  As his hands tighten on my edge, I silently promise to lend what support I can.  "It was part of the ruse.  You had to make it appear-"

Tall Military Jack cuts him off.  "Blowing off your presentation… fine?"

Gamely, Tall Civilian Daniel tries to keep up.  "Well, I did do a lot of work, but for the sake of verisimilitude-"

Tall Military Jack makes the little floating quotation signs next to his head as he cuts his friend off again.  " 'Shut up Daniel'… fine?"

Tall Civilian Daniel gets up and starts pacing, the Colonel keeping up with him every step of the way.  He is hounding Tall Civilian Daniel, never letting him finish his thought, never letting him gather his wits or form a defence.

"You had to keep us from asking-"

" 'We have no choice but to take whatever steps we need to get what we need'… fine?"

"Well, of course you would say that if you wanted to play-"  Tall Civilian Daniel's eyes are on his feet as he strides through the crowded office, dodging artifacts and one very persistent Colonel.

"Makepeace… fine, Daniel?"

"We."  Tall Civilian Daniel pauses.  Tall Military Jack is backing him into a corner, both literally and figuratively.  Their voices are getting louder with each round.  "We managed.  He-"

"Edora… fine?"

"Part of your cover!"  Tall Civilian Daniel gasps, his arms crossing over his chest.  "You needed to-"

" 'Not much of a foun-' "  This time, it is Tall Military Jack who is cut off as Tall Civilian Daniel turns and slams his fists onto my surface, sweeping the books and papers off with a guttural growl.

"Damn it, Jack!  After everything-  After all we've done!  To say nothing.  To pull that crap on me…  I came to you hoping to talk and I got fed this line from you so you could maintain your cover-"  He turns on his friend, repeating his earlier tirade, but this time with a truly appreciative audience.  Tall Military Jack gives ground, step by step, and Tall Civilian Daniel's finger jabs him in the chest.  "I let myself open up.  I knew there was something wrong and you just looked at me and smiled.  And then you said-"

"And it pissed you off."

"Damn right!  I'll bet you gave Maybourne a good laugh.  Was it worth it?  Did you get a thrill out of it?  If they didn't believe you when you ruined the meeting, and if they didn't believe you when you stole the technology and if they didn't believe you when you gave up command of SG1…"

"Then they would believe me when I betrayed my best friend."  Tall Military Jack finishes the archaeologist's sentence for him one last time.  At this, all of the fight goes out of Tall Civilian Daniel and he deflates before me.  He slumps backwards, perching on my sturdy edge.  Tall Military Jack reaches out, gripping his friend's arm, just above the elbow.  For a moment, neither speaks.  
"And that is why I'm sorry."  Tall Military Jack opens his hands and makes little circular motions.  "The rest of it can go hang, Daniel.  I won't apologize for anything else.  I did what I had to do.  Do you understand?"

Tall Civilian Daniel lifts his gaze to the Colonel's and stares intently for a long moment, his face unreadable.  For his part, the other man meets the cool gaze stoically.  At last, Tall Civilian Daniel's shoulders slump, and he manages a shaky smile as his eyes drop to examine the floor.  It's not a real smile.  It's the kind of smile that humans offer each other when they have no words left to say.  Tall Civilian Jack is not forgiven, not by a long shot, but Tall Civilian Daniel is not shutting the door on their friendship.

"I understand, Jack."

"And we're good?"

"We're… fine."

Tall Military Jack winces.  "But not good."

"No."  Tall Civilian Daniel pulls his gaze up from his shoes and back to Tall Military Jack's face.  "No, we're not."  He restates and then pauses.  Soon, a small, real smile creeps across his lips.  "But we will be."

Tall Military Jack's answering smile is broad, and he claps a hand to the archaeologist's shoulder fondly.  "Yeah.  Come on.  Carter and Teal'c are waiting.  Dinner's on me.  You can… draw straws to decide which restaurant."  He motions Tall Civilian Daniel toward the door, following behind.

"You know, Jack, I have had a craving for steak.  Maybe lobster."

"I was thinking the doughnut shop."

"And champagne."

"The day olds are pretty good.  Can't even tell."

"Something with truffles."

The sound of their voices fades away as the office door slides shut again.  They are bickering again.  The loud argument is probably the sweetest sound I have heard in weeks.  They are not 'good', not yet.  Tall Civilian Daniel did not lie, but neither Tall Military Jack nor I missed the tone of determination.  They are not good.

But they will be.

I am a table.  Simple, functional and plain.  It is my honour and my duty to serve those who inhabit this base.  I have learned much in my long years, and one of the most basic truths is that the true friends are not those who surround you in good times.  They are those who find you in the worst. 


End file.
